


high all the time

by ymguchi (complex_andhera)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Unrequited Love, aka my akiyama shipping manifesto that's been sitting in my brain forever, akiteru and yamaguchi find each other amidst the shit that is their lives, there's gonna be so much fucking character development!!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3145049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complex_andhera/pseuds/ymguchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamaguchi gets drunk after Tsukki dumps him for somebody better. </p><p>It's a good that Akiteru is there to pick up the pieces. </p><p>[endgame: akiyama, past: tsukkiyama]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Sorry...I ain’t even proof read this shit jfc. But I *am* interested in writing a full length Akiyama fic and excited about exploring their relationship dynamic and doing a character study, hopefully. I understand that this ship is problematic but I would like to emphasize that Yamaguchi is aged up to 18 in this fic, even though that makes Akiteru around 25, and 7 years is still a pretty big age gap. I just feel like they would have so much chemistry, especially because their personalities are extremely similar, at least when I interpret them. Warning that this fic is pretty boring at the beginning and will move sort of slowly, but please stay tuned!! Its going to be awesome :DD

_Spend my days_

_Locked in a haze_

_Trying to forget you babe_

_I fall back down_

Yamaguchi finds himself curled up in a pretty comfortable white bathtub. His knees are drawn up to his chest and his head tucked painfully into them, like he’s a turtle trying to cower back down into his shell, away from all perceived danger.

There’s loud music thumping against the thin walls of this tiny bathroom, and he can feel the vibrations from the music through the one ledge of the bath tub wall that’s digging most painfully into his spine. He’s not entirely sure exactly how he got there or why there is dried, slowly crusting vomit starting to form an unpleasant second carpet on the grimy, tiled floor, but the most important thing is that there’s an ice cold beer in his hand and the thumping pulse against his temples, while still insistently painful against the thin skin of his forehead, is slowly starting to lull, like the drop back beat in a song after the exuberance of the chorus is finally over.

 _You don’t even like beer_ his brain tries to tell his animal mind, but his animal mind is still soaking up in hate, in all of his anger, and it makes him tip his head back all the way in an attempt to swallow the entire bottle at one time. It doesn’t matter to him that he’s always preferred vodka, or that Tsukki had always made fun of him for drinking what he deemed a “girly” drink...he just wants to be alone for a few minutes, and hey, if a chilled beer was his consolation prize on the way, well, he’s never been the kind to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So, swig. Gag. Thump at his chest and cough a little. Then repeat.

He’s going to be in here for a while.

* * *

 

Rewind to two hours ago.

They had both arrived at Yachi’s house for an end of the year party to celebrate the volleyball team’s overwhelming victory this season and to close the last few months before graduation up on a good note. It’s really all of his fault that any of this happened, his mind starts to believe irrationally, because he was the one who dragged Tsukki here anyways.

He was just about the get them both mixed drinks (he starts to obsess over what happened, even though his brain is telling him that thinking about it is a terrible idea, his animal mind has never been one for good decisions), Tsukki had said that he would go, it was no big deal, but Yamaguchi, being the eager to please little puppy that he was, had insisted.

He’s the one who’s terrible idea it was to come anyways, as Tsukishima had so kindly reminded him only about a million times or so as they had walked home after practice, and again after he had picked him up in his Mom’s beat up old station wagon. (She had smiled at him, Yamaguchi grimaces like there’s a bad taste in his mouth, she had been mildly surprised but mostly proud that he had actually been invited to something in his life, that he was finally being included, and had given him the keys with a shine in her eyes and only minimal resistance, her only stipulation being that he should be back home no later than 3 am, which he agreed to almost immediately because he knew that Tsukishima would get bored much, much earlier than that and start tugging on his shirt sleeves and dragging him back out).

But now...he wasn’t sure exactly what to think. He had turned his back for only one minute. Just one minute, short enough to say hi to Yachi, who at this point was already a bit tipsy and quite giggly, only being supported from falling down by one of Kiyoko’s slender arms wrapped around her waist, and ask her the most important question, namely, did she know where did her mother keep the seltzer and the cranberry juice cocktail (and Tsukki claimed his drink choices were lame?). But when he turned around…

...he wished he could say he was surprised.

There was the (former) captain of the Nekoma volleyball team (why did they even allow guys who had graduated high school about two years ago in here? Wasn’t this supposed to be a party for Karasuno third years? Before all of the them went on to graduate in the summer? What the f-?)

And there it was. An arm wrapped securely across Tsukishima’s slender waist, shoulders that brushed too closely and the way that Kuroo was leaning in too closely to speak lowly in Tsukishima’s personal space bubble and invading all of his rules he was so adamant about...

That was all Yamaguchi really needed to see.

Still, even though his heart was slowly sinking, he still felt some of his sole protective duty as Tsukishima’s best friend kick in, and he moved to intervene and slap that hand away (maybe even rip it out of it’s socket? The way that Kuroo’s fingers were curling in tightly at the soft part of Tsukki’s flesh was starting to make him feel generous).

 _It was his duty, it was his duty_ he kept repeating to himself, trying to embolden himself as he pushed through the packed room and braved all of the sweaty bodies swaying together, and they _had_ been friends for more than ten years, surely that trumped a guy who had spend a month or so teaching him blocking? Right? He clung to this thought desperately.

But then Tsukishima leaned in…

…brushed his thumb over Kuroo’s cheeks with unexpected tenderness...

….and planted a small kiss at the corner of Kuroo’s mouth.

The drink spilled from his hand and sloshed all over his sneakers.

He needs to leave, now.

* * *

How long has this been going on? The condensation from the chilled glass clings to his fingers and runs from his hands to his shirt, and his heart can’t stop racing. His mind won’t be quiet either, asking questions that are useless after the fact, like _How long has Tsukishima’s heart belonged to someone else like this, How does that compare to how long he’s held Yamaguchi’s?_

(Ten years, to be precise.)

(What a waste of time.)

His feet carried him up the stairs before his animal brain could form a single logical thought, as it was still stewing in jealous fumes and hated soup. Away, that was his first impulse. Away from the seductive bass line of the music muffled under his feet as he climbed the stairs, away from all the happy third years rubbing their happiness in his face-Kageyama and Hinata competing against each other in beer pong like riding the tides against each other was second nature, Yachi and Kiyoko, who came down for the weekend to see her precious girlfriend, talking quietly in the corner, their bodies curling into each other as the sipped from the same glass.

He was never a petty person, but tonight he just couldn’t stand it.

If the two biggest volleyball idiots could get together before going off to college on full, volleyball team scholarships (even if they did do it by chucking two volleyballs at each other at the same time and screaming, GO OUT WITH ME, IDIOT) and if the most anxiety-driven girl he had even know in his life could make the most beautiful girl manager of their high school fall in love with her, then Yamaguchi could at least tell Tsukki how he’d been secretly loving (and lusting after, but he might want to delay that part until a bit later) him for a considerable expanse of his short, pathetic life time. Hell, after a few drinks were inside him, he might even finally stop being ‘pathetic’ and pluck up the courage to kiss him, even chastely.

His first love. He had clung onto that thought with almost relative ease, a comfort when he had been horribly depressed after his father left, he had guarded it possessively and daydreamed about holding Tsukki more times than it was probably acceptable.

And one by one, his fantasies had all crumbled down.

No.

He needed to call someone.

He’d been swallowing everything that people had been kindly putting in his hands all night, too distracted to put up much of a fight and just desolate enough to think that over drinking would be a good idea (it always was in movies, when the heroine needed to forget her heartbreaks) and that they would solve all of his problems. And now his head was starting to feel heavy and his vision was swimming painfully, and when he tried to stand in the bathtub, holding onto the towel rack for support and safety, his whole body was shaking uncontrollably, and even though he gripped at the walls, he still fell back down and smacked his ass most painfully on the bathtub floor.

He groaned and fished out his cell phone from his jeans’ pocket to check the time.

3:08 AM.

That, and his little acrobatic display a few moments ago was enough for him to decide that there was no way in hell he could go back home to his mother looking like this.

She was going to kill him.

He needed to stay at someone else’s for the night.

He had only called this number a handful of times, but there were always good feelings associated with it. Calls to pick him and Tsukki up from school when they were in elementary school, or quick conversations to confirm that he had gotten home safe after being dropped off in the mornings. A helpful hand, and a cheerful smile: Yamaguchi had grinned for the first time this night, even if it was short lived and difficult.

817-335-2129

Akiteru Tsukishima

* * *

“Tadashi? Tadashi, what’s wrong? It’s awfully late for you to be calling. Are you alright??”

Yamaguchi smirked sardonically, in a very cheated and un-Yamaguchi like fashion. He tried to keep his bitterness from turning into an actual grimace, and from seeping into his conversation. Akiteru was first and foremost a protective presence for him, warmth personified, and Yamaguchi could feel a small resurgence of a childhood crush (mostly adoration, admiration of his height, his alleged volleyball prowess, and his incredibly patient way of dealing with professional stinkbomb Tsukishima Kei) blooming in his voice.

“Hello? Aki-nii?”

He almost feels embarrassed using that only moniker. What else is he supposed to call him? He’d been using it since second grade anyways. It tasted unspoiled, sweet on his tongue and without the everlasting guilt and sadness of “Kei”.

Damnit. He still sounds pretty shy though. Like ten years had hardly passed.

“Tadashi? Where are you? Is everything okay?” Does he hear relief. excitement, a little bit of fear maybe? Yamaguchi blooms under all of that concern saved up just for him.

“Jeez, so many questions, >hic< Aki-nii. Where do I start?”

He tries to sound playful, even on the verge of tears.

“Tadashi...have you been...drinking?”

Ah, disapproval. Disappointment too. Yamaguchi relishes it, suddenly craves the attention.

Silence. Yamaguchi picks at the fraying end of his dark purple hoodie’s sleeve, his only consolation after the beer had been finished. Akiteru was biting his fingernails, his concern growing rapidly; Yamaguchi could tell instinctually, had seen him do it when he was watching Tsukki’s games and slightly before that, when he was a third years student, locked away in his room studying for exam and fretting over his university applications. It was the same way Yamaguchi felt when he knew Tsukki wasn’t feeling well or was keeping something from him.

It was the curse of the ones who cared.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Yamaguchi feels like he needs to apologize. Akiteru has always been one who likes to get to bed early, he’d probably gone and woken him up. “We haven’t talked properly in years and here I am already inconveniencing you. I’m sorry, I probably woke you up from your sleep, I’ll just hang up the phone right now-”

“No! Tadashi! It’s okay. It’s actually pretty nice to talk to you as well.”

Yamaguchi could here the receiver shifting from his right to his left hand, some fabric rustled and he could hear a cat yowling distantly in the background. So he was correct in assuming that Akiteru had been back in town for a while. He didn’t even think about that when he was calling.

“Aki-nii...are you back from university?” Yamaguchi ventured to ask.

Akiteru laughed, a pervasive quality that could envelop him in a world away from his shitty reality.

“I’ve been out of uni for a whole now, Tadashi-kun. I moved back home to work at a branch of a Tokyo company that started up an office here.”

What? He had been here for a while now, and Yamaguchi had had no idea?

“Tadashi-kun, that isn’t the most important thing right now. We can talk about my job and catch up with each other much later, preferably when I’m driving you back home. Can I come and get you, please? Where are you sitting?”

Yamaguchi tensed up. Oh, Aki-nii, acting like his knight in shining armour. Yamaguchi chucked darkly and tugged the entire thread out of the cuff of his hoodie. It was laid useless, limp, and without the rigid form that it once maintained. It didn’t cover up the deep scars on his wrists anymore, and he suddenly saw the ugly skin of his wrists.

“I can’t go home right now.” _Not like this._

He’d already texted his mom that he’d be staying at Tsukishima’s house, it was a reflex at this point, reinforced by years of sleepovers and impromptu night video game sessions that got carried away, and why wouldn’t she believe him, when he’d done the same thing hundreds of times before?

He still can’t believe that Tsukishima would throw everything away like that. Unconsciously, his grip on his cell phone tightens.

There’s a long pause. Yamaguchi can hear Akiteru ruffling his hair above his forehead, followed by an almost inaudible huff of frustration.

“Okay, okay, how about this. I’ll come get you and we can go to my apartment? Is that okay, Tadashi-kun?”

Yamaguchi is really starting to like the way Akiteru enunciates each syllable of his name. Ta-da-shi. It’s probably the reason he lets him pick him up out of the bathtub and princess carry him downstairs and out the door to his car, Tsukki long gone and probably at Kuroo’s house already.

Akiteru even buckles him into his seatbelt _(hey, he loves riding shotgun)_ and make sure that he’s comfortable in his tiny red Prius. He smiles a little when Akiteru ruffles his hair a little bit, just like he used to when he was a child. The warm touch from his hand evaporates quickly as the air con blasts onto his face. Tadashi’s just too tired to care, or adjust the nozzles.

He falls asleep to the lull of the tires against the streets _(Aki-nii is a very safe driver)_ and before he knows it, he’s already at Akiteru’s also quite tiny apartment somewhat on the outskirts of town, and Akiteru very generously carries him again, this time on piggy back, up one flight of stairs, and unlocks the door. He kicks it open with his foot and places Tadashi down on his couch for a minute, only to turn on the lights and locate his bedroom there. And there he goes, swept off of his feet once again, and he does try to protest, to wiggle out of Akiteru’s admittedly strong grip, but he’s only shushed and tucked in under the bed covers. Akiteru makes a move to pull the comforter and sheets over his shoulders and tuck them into his chin like he is still a little kid being put to bed before ten, and he makes like he’s going to turn off the side table lamp and leave Tadashi in here in favor of the couch. Yamaguchi isn’t quite used to someone else taking so much care of him like this, yes his mother does care about him and yes he does have other friends at school, but this feeling of being loved, of being protected, so tenderly and without selfishness is an incredibly rare, pleasurable experience to him, a spoiling that he could get used to, and before he’s royal treatment comes to an end in favor of him sleeping off his now-forming hangover, he reaches out and grabs Akiteru by his sleeves.

“Bed’s pretty big, Aki-nii.”

He scoots over and holds his breath, too scared to say anything else. _You could sleep right here_ , you know is what his eyes say.

“Ah, Tadashi,” Akiteru looks like he wants to shake him off, to make some excuse about how they aren’t so young any more and there’s no way the bed’s going to hold both of them, but then Tadashi yanks harder and he’s so reminded of the way he was as a kid, cheerful and sunny, barreling forward despite the circumstances, and he thinks it better than to waste time trying to protest. He’ll probably lose this argument, he’s always had a soft spot for his little brother’s best (and only) friend.

“Okay, just ‘cause it’s kind of cold outside in the living room and I’ve grown way to tall for the pull out couch,” he gets inside, underneath the soft down quilt riddled with asymmetrical stitches holding together eclectic patches.

His shoulder nudges Tadashi’s, just barely scrapes against the bony things, and he’s about to yelp in pain and make some wise-ass remark about how Yamaguchi is just not cute anymore, just not cute at all, the same kind of thing he finds himself always telling Kei, but then before he can say it Yamaguchi wraps both his arms around Akiteru’s left arm like he’s a snake and tightens his grip before snuggling down and decided to spend the rest of the night sleeping on Akiteru’s chest. He’s about to pry him off, gently of course, and just set him away on his own pillow for propriety’s sake, but before he can do anything about the situation, Yamaguchi is already totally fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in measured, rhythmic beats and Akiteru doesn’t have the heart in him to pull the boy off and shove him to sleep. He just can’t, not with the way Yamaguchi just looks so contented and at peace, the lines of his face relaxing and simple, almost childish smile on his face, as if his dreams were taking him to a completely different place away from all of the problems he was clearly trying to avoid today (Akiteru makes a mental note to question him tomorrow). He runs a hand through Tadashi’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and he seems to like that kind of thing because he’s murmuring contently and curling in closer to Akiteru’s body (his face is flaming red...too cute! Just way to fucking cute to deal with!!!) and even though 90% of his body weight is on him, and even though Tadashi is starting to drool a little bit onto his favorite shirt, Akiteru smiles and puts his arm around Yamaguchi’s shoulders (it’s definitely going to cramp tomorrow, goddammit) and tilts his head back, and tries to sleep.

It’s been a really long night, in different ways, for both of them.


	2. Chapter 2: Caffeinated and medicated, thanks for the ride home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yamaguchi's out of the fryer but into the frying pan 
> 
> (or, akiteru's arms are surprisingly comfy, and they finally have a heart-to-heart)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there are a lot of mentions of self harm in this chapter, please tread carefully!! 
> 
> however it does end happily :D

Last memories before fading out of consciousness: fine, strawy hair, blond, tickling at his nostrils, making him about to sneeze. A faint groan that turns into a yawn, a soft shush-ing sound, and an arm pulling him incloser and tucking him into a strong chest. ( _A boy could really get used to this kind of treatment,_ he thinks dopily before passing out)

 

After that, he is so at peace that he hardly wants to wake up again, even though eventually he had to, as daylight broke and sunlight poured in through the French windows and illuminates the entire equally tiny room.

 

"Tadashi, are you up yet?"

 

The warmth and the strong arms that were briefly wrapped around him (or was that a detail of his dream? he can't be sure but at least now can he pretend and dream of them again) are missing, but the sheets are still warm and Akiteru’s smell lingers, detergent and a faint hint of soy sauce that starts to cling to Yamaguchi’s skin the longer he dozes in this unfamiliar bedroom.

 

"I'm up, I'm up already," he hurries, panicking for a moment, jumping off the rickety poster bed and trying in vain to pull the striped sheets and tuck them under the mattress.

 

Akiteru walks in and leans against the doorway, watching him with great amusement.

 

"My own brother never cares enough to make my bed this neatly when he stays over, and here you are carefully placing my stuffed animals all in a row. You're a good kid Tadashi, even if you get drunk and sit in your friend's bathroom sometimes."

 

There's a hand offering him a mug of coffee while he’s still half tangled in sheets and he knows his hair is a complete rat’s nest, but it’s made of milk rather than just plain black and he forgets to be self-conscious for once, and takes it gratefully and almost downs the entire thing in one gulp.

 

He coughs, sputtering for a moment as he chokes from the scalding liquid finally hitting the back of his throat, and in an instant, Aki-nii is there right by side, patting him on the back, gently but firmly, one hand reflexively coming to his wrist, and he looks the perfect picture of concern, to the extent that even this simple affection is bordering on doting for Yamaguchi.

 

(He _loves_ it, by the way, he's practically eating up all this love and concern and genuine attention after years of being ignored and told to "shut up, yamaguchi")

 

"I'm f-fine." He mentally cursed himself for stuttering like a little kid again, but that seems to be happening alot lately, and Aki-nii doesn’t even hold it against him, rubbing the back of his neck like _he’s_ the one whose self conscious now, and oh, Yamaguchi is in a alot trouble now.

 

"It seems like you've had a really rough weekend, kiddo," Akiteru takes him by the forearm and gently leads him from the bedroom to the better lighting of the living room and plops him on the couch and places his half-finished coffee on the table for him to drink later.

 

Akiteru runs a hand through his own hair, ruffling it slightly, destroying the straight, neatly parted locks and scattering a few strands in every which way, and the he plops himself  right down on the couch next to Tadashi so that he's looking eye to eye with him, instead of looking up at him. He looks over with expectant gleam, mischievous yet aware and sensitive of any boundaries, and Yamaguchi's heart clenches suddenly, as if he would like nothing better than to tuck himself right back into bed and continue avoid talking about this situation forever (because that's been working out so well for him recently).

 

"Did Tsukki tell you I like my coffee like this?"

 

Changing the subject is his last line of defense, but he forgets that Akiteru has twenty plus years of experience in being an older brother (I.e. His ability to sniff out bullshit is bordering on stupendous now, especially since he's had the ever tight lipped Tsukishima Kei to practice on for most of his life) so he only props his chin up and crosses his legs without saying much.

 

"He only mentioned it a few million times, no big deal."

 

Akiteru's throwing him a bone right now and that makes Tadashi feel exceptionally shitty.

 

"Ah...Tsukki..." Tadashi starts, but  then his throat closes up and lungs stop being able to function correctly.

 

"He..." Sniff.

 

"Mmmhm,"

 

"He l-likes someone else." Yamaguchi hiccups at that, and Akiteru makes a soft noise of understanding, like he’s urging him to continue and get it out of his system.

 

A single tear starts welling up but he tries everything to keep them from falling unchecked.

 

He sniffles again, pathetically.

 

"I'm nothing to him."

 

Ah, and there it is. The outpour. Tadashi's always been an ugly crier and now he's wiping his tears up on the bunched up sleeves of his hoodie, waiting for this sadness to pass on momentarily, blubbering helplessly and critically aware of how unappealing he must look now.

 

But, then Akiteru does something brilliantly simple, that comforts him immensely and almost immediately interrupts his flow of tears.

 

He hugs him.

 

Just two subtly muscled, pale arms wrapped around his skinny shoulders, passing on a bodily warmth, and Yamaguchi can’t can't help but think that _this_ was what had always been missing from when he was with Tsukki:warmth, tenderness, even a little shred of caring for his wellbeing.

 

No, with Tsukki there had only been selfishness, as he too self-contained to ever truly let Yamaguchi look after him like he always wanted to, and now the raw, unspoken connection forged between Akiteru-nii and him less that twenty four hours ago contained more warmth and unspoken affection than his one-sided infatuation with Tsukki had for the last ten years.

 

At first, he doesn't hug back. He doesn't want to mess up Aki-ni's t-shirts anymore, after he's already done so much for Tadashi, but then Akiteru pulls him in and buries Tadashi's face in the crook of his neck so he can hide his tears and grasp onto Akiteru's strong midsection firmly.There's hands carding through his messy brown hair and a comforting _shushing_ sound being whispered in his ears, easing him out of his spiral of negative emotions.

 

There were no fake sympathetic “there there”s either, or awkward, not-really-reassuring, please-get-off-of-me-as-quickly-as-possible pats on his back, and _for once,_ for once, silence felt comforting rather than oppressive, a lull in movement and in thinking that allowed the anxiety tightly coiled in Yamaguchi’s belly to unravel completely, and let keep breathing for a few minutes longer.

 

With Tsukki, long silences used to make him nervous, scared beyond his wits sometimes, made him recall nearly everything that he’d said and done that could have possibly been construed as offensive, but with Aki-nii, the silence allowed for him to relieve his emotions, allowed someone else to fix him up and put him back together instead of having to rely on himself (as always) to put a bandaid  over the problem and wait (patiently, inevitably) for next promising breakdown to set him off all over again.

 

When he did finally finish crying, when his shoulders stopped shuddering and he had spread tears nearly everywhere, on the coffee table, in his mug of now cold milk coffee, and all over Akiteru’s t-shirt (which he now recognized as his old Karasuno t-shirt that he’d apparently kept all of these years and fit him very snugly), he finally calmed down enough to form coherent words again. Akiteru wiped his tears away with the sleeves of the ratty hoodie he’d once told Tadashi that he only wore in the house, and he tweaked his nose to Yamaguchi’s mild shock, as if he was still a bratty little kid, and made him giggle despite himself.

 

“We were all a little worried about you, Tadashi,” Akiteru looks away for a moment, as if he’s afraid to tell him all this to his face.

 

“You were always so close to Tsukki, I knew you might get hurt sometime. It’s a hard place to be, when you’re that close to someone you really care about.”

 

Akiteru tucks a little bit of Tadashi’s hair behind his ear and smiles, like he’s proud of Yamaguchi for learning one of the many painful lessons of adulthood.

 

“It get’s messy.”

 

Akiteru leans in for another hug, at the last minute, and at first Yamaguchi is too surprised to be grateful, but then he’s tugging his fingers into Akiteru’s t-shirt and holding him pretty close never the less, sniffling a few  more tears awkwardly into Aki-nii’s neck and shoulder.

 

Akiteru grabs Yamaguchi’s wrist just before he’s about to pull away, and his fingers slip underneath his hoodie, tracing his scars as if waiting for an explanation.

 

Yamaguchi hiccups again, too scared to say anything, but he can at least manage a broken apology. “They’re from...when everything gets too difficult,” he swallows, “Sometimes, there’s just nobody to talk to. So, I keep it all inside myself, and I take it out on myself when it’s too much to hold inside,”

 

Akiteru’s grip on his wrist tightens, protectively, and Yamaguchi swallows thickly and continues, “I p-promise….I promise I won’t do it again.”

 

He whispers the last part, almost as if he’s afraid of making a promise that he isn’t sure he’ll be able to keep. Akiteru must have sense some of his apprehension because he pulled back to look Yamaguchi in the eyes, dead serious.

 

“Your life matters to me, Tadashi-kun,” Akiteru says solemnly, “And I never want you to feel like you’re alone and you have to keep all you’re toxic feelings inside, ever again, okay?”

 

He gets up for a moment and Yamaguchi wonders if this is finally it, if he is supposed to walk himself home from this part of town that he’s never visited before, but then Akiteru comes back with his cellphone and hands it to Yamaguchi with the Add Contact screen open.

 

“A senpai from college did this for me when I was going through a lot of really hard shit,” he explains, “We exchanged numbers and I just texted him when I was too stressed out or sad to talk to just anyone in person. So I’m gonna do the same for you know, okay Tadashi? Just put your number in and send me a text when you feel like your skin’s eating you up or when the urge to take a razor to your skin becomes too strong, and I swear I can text or call you, hell I could drive where you are and pick you up again if you want me to, but _I just don’t want you to ever feel his every alone again, okay?_ You’re a really important part of many people’s lives, even if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes, and I just want you to know that I’m always here to listen to your problems, got it?”

 

“Why are you doing all this for me, huh? I’m not part of the Boys and Girls club, you’re not my big brother or anything like that!”

 

Yamaguchi is mildly offended at first, just how fragile does Aki-nii really think he is?

 

Instead of getting angry, Akiteru just laughs. “Good, you still have your fighting spirit right? That’s important if you’re planning on winning the battle with depression.”

 

“I would know.”

 

Yamaguchi startles at that. Maybe it would be nice to have someone who understands what’s going on with him, who can calm him down when his emotions hit one extreme or another.

 

“I guess I’ll just have to bribe you with coffee, if it’s really *that* much a waste of your time,” Akiteru whistles noncommittally, “So you can just call me if you want me to make you more milk coffee too, alright?”

 

Yamaguchi visibly brightens after that.

 

“Did you also, um….” He’s not quite sure how to ask _So have you also been self harming for a while_ politely and without offending Aki-nii, but Akiteru seems to get the gist of what he’s awkwardly trying to say, and he nods, looking as wistful as Tadashi’s ever seen him.

 

“I did it a lot in high school...after all the things with the Small Giant went down, I really felt like the most useless person. And I really let Kei down, and exams were getting to me and university applications and dealing with my own sexuality without getting in trouble with my parents...it was all incredibly tough.”

 

Akiteru’s fingers trace the pale skin of his forearm and dance along the edges of his wrists all the way to his upper bicep.

 

“It took a lot of Mederma and scar cream before I could ever wear short sleeves again,”

 

Oh no, Yamaguchi’s gone and brought up all his bad memories at the same time…

 

But then Akiteru smiles and tries his best to mask his negativity with a thumbs up.

“So you’re just going to have to get stronger and not makes the same mistakes as me, alright kiddo?”

 

“Hey! I’m not child, Aki-nii, I’m eighteen already, seriously…”

 

Yamaguchi balks at the idea of being treated as anything less than an equal by the first guy he ever had a crush on, before Tsukki.

 

“Yeah okay, so do you want cornflakes or co-co puffs for breakfast, huh?”

 

“Co-co puffs, obviously-” Yamaguchi realized just how much of a child he sounds like, at the moment. The awkward, rapidly gloomy atmosphere melts away entirely, and Akteru snickers a little bit but gets up and fetches two bowls of the sickeningly sweet chocolate cereal for both of them to eat on the couch.

 

“And do you want cartoons with that, or…?” Yamaguchi elbows Akiteru in the ribs, not hard enough to hurt him too much (but just enough to remind him that he’s e _ighteen fucking years old_ again.   
  


“For your information, I only watch Invader Zim while I’m eating my co-co puffs.” He makes a pseudo-regal gesture, flicking his wrist dramatically before swooping down to stick a sopping spoon for of co-co puffs into his mouth gracelessly.

 

“Cartoon Network, please,” he mumbles, barely coherent through his mouthful of food.

 

Aki-nii laughs heartily, glad to see that bringing up painful memories for both of them wouldn’t get in the way of them having fun together. He grabs the remote and flicks to the inane morning cartoons, Dragon Ball Z followed by Naruto reruns and Invader Zim later on at 1 pm. Yamaguchi tucks himself in to Akiteru’s chest without warning, but he hardly minds being used as a pillow, resting his back on the armrest of his couch and splaying his legs so Yamaguchi can sit comfortably between them. Yamaguchi’s head rests on his shoulders briefly, and the scent of his strawberry flavored shampoo makes Akiteru dizzy momentarily, just as fine brunette hairs brush up against his cheek bones.

 

“Sorry, I just…” Tadashi seems only partially aware of the situation, partly aware of how casually he’s being but refreshingly bold and not even slightly embarrassed for a moment.

 

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it, Tadashi. Kei and I watch tv like this sometimes. He forces me to watch a lot of history channel and dinosaur documentaries...I am such a good older sibling..” he brags playfully.

 

Yamaguchi’s fingers  unconsciously find his hand and tighten over his wrist. Akiteru realizes his mistake of mentioning the sore subject of his litter brother way too quickly, and pats Tadashi’s head in an attempt to get him to calm down. He sets his bowl on the coffee table and gathers Tadashi into his arms again, almost pulling him entirely into his lap, while still trying to maintain a respectable distance. He knows that when he felt as alone as Tadashi is right now, he always craved a little bit of skin to skin contact in order to make him feel better, and he can see that the same theory is working on Yamaguchi, who easily relaxes into his arms and starts to breathe deeply again, face turned away and eyes still steadfastly glued to the glowing tv screen.

 

“Akiteru,” Yamaguchi breathes out his full name for the first time. Akiteru turns to look at him with the utmost attention.

 

“Please don’t make me go home, where I’ll be alone.” He whispers, trembling slightly and still too shaken to look into his eyes directly.

 

Too this, Akiteru just holds him closer to his chest and rubs his thumb reassuringly over Tadashi’s. He knows that feeling intimately, the feeling of being completely alone when desolation is about to take over and consume him whole He would never wish that fate onto Yamaguchi, resign him to pulling himself through all of his negative feelings alone.

 

“Tadashi,” Akiteru whispers in a clear, crisp voice, “You can stay however long you like. I’m not going to turn you away before you’re ready to be alone again.”

 

Yamaguchi’s grip on his sleeves doesn’t lighten, if anything he tugs hard, not that Akiteru minds how tactile he’s being right now. They stay like that for the rest of the midmorning TV marathon, Tadashi clinging to his arms or playing with his fingers distractedly, Akiteru running his hands through Tadashi’s hair and asking him a question here and there when he isn’t quite able to follow the plot of the shows.

 

It may seem a bit sudden, the intimacy that’s flowing so comfortably between the, but for Yamaguchi, after years of being held at a distance and being forced to conceal all of his negative impulses, it seems like the only natural way to keep himself from going completely crazy: sharing the burden, if he may.

 

And Akiteru is the perfect person to rely on. He understands exactly where Tadashi has been, has the matching scars all up and down his wrists and has spent the same amount of time alone in his bedroom with his mind buzzing itself to death and his heart too full of sadness to even force himself to function. This kind of connection is rare, yes, but it’s hardly impossible, and from the way Yamaguchi’s socked food gently tickles Akiteru knee, the way they laugh together at the humorous parts of shitty nineties animation and tense up at the same rehashed battle scenes that they’ve both seen millions of times by now, this thing that seems to be hesitantly blossoming slowly but surely between the two of them is only going to grow stronger with each passing day.

 

Tadashi snuggles down, and Akiteru dozes comfortably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps can you guys tell me if the spacing is too weird? im trying something new to make it more read-able
> 
> find me on tumblr @ ymguchi.tumblr.com come scream about akiyama w/me!!


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